


Sharing is Caring

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Panty Kink, Thongs - Freeform, bjs, motherfucking plaid lumberjack thongs, on the impala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn't think Sam would be too interested in seeing him in pink or lacey panties, and he's right, but then Sam finds something else they can both enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing is Caring

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, trying to resist taking a hand off the steering wheel to adjust himself in his pants because they were getting too goddam tight. He should have never told Sam. They were drunk, and Sam was sharing, and it was all still kind of exciting and nervous and when his baby brother decided to fess up and tell Dean he had a major thing for having his hair pulled – no wonder he never cut it – so Dean fessed up and told Sam that he liked to wear panties. Of course, he didn’t really think it would be Sam’s kind of thing. Dean couldn’t even imagine Sam getting off on him wearing something pink or lacey or just impractically girly. And he was right, cause Dean knew his brother, but where the fuck did Sam manage to find a goddam plaid thong is anybodies guess. What, was there some kind of butch lumberjack lesbian store that sold them? Cause they sure as shit weren’t meant for a man, as Dean found out the hard way through this very very long day.

It has started innocuously enough, several days after their little game of truth and dare, several days that had included a whole hell of a lot of sweaty skin and hair pulling. Dean was seriously trying to get the two of them to stop fucking like rabbits and get back to their damn job, which had found them in this town in the middle of nowhere chasing what was probably a ghost. But after Sam had been sent out for breakfast, he returned with a flush in his cheeks, eyes downcast, shuffling around nervously with one bag of definitely breakfast in one hand and a small bag of definitely not breakfast in the other hand. Dean should have grabbed the breakfast, should of just let it go, made Sam squirm, made him nervous, but nooo he had to put on a cocky grin and raise a brow and snatch the mysterious little bag from Sam’s hands.

Seriously, a fucking green and black plaid thong – “It’ll match your eyes De” – and like hell Dean was going to be putting it on in front of Sam, but he sure wasn’t going to turn down his baby brother when he saw how fucking hungry his eyes were, and it had nothing to do with the breakfast bag sitting forgotten on the motel table next to their hunt notes. So Dean just marched his ass into the bathroom, ripped off the tags, and miraculously managed to mostly stuff himself into the thong. Goddam, no wonder women seemed so happy when he ripped gstrings off with his teeth, it was weirdly uncomfortable but when he shifted and the material dragged over his asshole it was weirdly fun. He’d never worn a thong before, panties yes, soft wide girls panties that were smooth on his skin. This was new territory. And Dean would never say to Sam, but he did maybe kind of preen in front of the mirror for a few seconds, snapping the band of the material against the vee of his hips, turning around and flexing his butt cheeks, tucking and shifting until it was manageably comfortable before pulling his denim jeans up over it.

When he came of out of the bathroom Sam was sitting in a motel chair staring at the bath door like he had xray vision and twitching his leg up and down. Yeah, Sam knew he was wearing it, and Sam would know all day long, and Sam wouldn’t get to see it till later. Breakfast, three witnesses, the morgue, and the library later and Dean was starting to regret his decision.

So maybe he should have tucked a normal pair of underwear in the car, but that was a piss poor excuse to keep wearing the thong because he had - and would plenty of times more -go commando. It was just so fucking weird, every time he thought no and shifted himself it turned into a yes and his little brother had been watching him shift and readjust all day long. Well at least they figured out who the ghost was, where it was interred, and had dug the fucker up to salt and burn, a clean straight forward hunt for fucking once, but now Dean got to knock off his bucket list ‘digging up a corpse in a thong your brother bought you’. Yeah, that was one to remember.

And now he was driving the Impala back to their hotel, forearms dusted with grave dirt and brow shining with sweat, winding along serpentine country roads through corn fields as the sky turned that sweet sort of blue right before the sun would be coming up, stars starting to fade, his baby brother smiling in the seat with a grin on his face Dean was starting to recognize as something far less innocent than he had always thought, when Sam wanted something from him, lips twitching when Sam was just about to say something dirty. Dean spread his thighs a little more, letting his hand slip off the steering wheel to adjust his cock.

“Why don’t you just unzip your pants De? Gotta be more comfortable, I’ve been waiting all day, don’t I get to see what I got just for you?”

Dean’s gaze flicked between the road and Sam, tongue poking out to lick his lips, he really didn’t want to wait to get to the motel room, already half hard just from how much he enjoyed hunting with his brother, driving next to him in the car, wearing the panties he bought. “Sure Sammy, now the job’s done I guess we could have a little distraction.”

With one hand he flicked his buckle apart and popped the button on the denim, sliding the zipper down, lifting his ass on the seat to scoot the pants down a few inches and open them wider. He could barely fit in the thong this morning, his rapidly swelling cock bulged out of the plaid material, and he knew he could hear a fucking whine from Sam.

“Like what you see baby brother?”

“God Dean you have no idea.”

“Maybe you should help me out here, gotta keep my hands on the wheel.”

“Maybe you should just pull over and let me suck you off on the hood.”

The Impala swerved to the side jerkily before Dean righted it, glancing quickly next to him to gauge Sam and yeah, that was dead fucking serious. Oh he could totally go for a blow job on the hood of his car in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with hopefully only cows to watch. Fuck the fact they were covered with dirt and salt and probably dead guy ash, this was so happening.

Pulling the Impala over when Dean came to a nice flat stretch of road where he could see if anyone was coming or going, he barely had the keys out of the ignition before he was meeting Sam around front, turned by his brother’s big Sasquatch hands and manhandled up onto the front of the hood, bringing his feet up to leverage on the bumper, lifting his hips when Sam started tugging his jeans down, leaning back on his elbows because there was no way Dean could stay upright. 

“These barely fit you… I don’t know if they sell them for guys though….”

Sam sounded completely serious, and it was so not fair that Dean was this worked up and his brother could form coherent sentences. At least Mr serious didn’t seem too interested in conversation though cause as soon as he made his case he was pulling the fabric aside, sinking to his knees on the gravel, and swallowing Dean down.

“Fuck Sammy.”

Dean didn’t have much purchase splayed out on the warm hood of his baby to thrust up into Sam’s mouth, but he was content enough after driving himself crazy all day with a string sliding up his ass to let Sam take care of him, resting on his elbows with hands splayed against the smooth metal of the car, watching the unruly hair flopping over Sam’s face as he started bobbing up and down, fucking boy must of picked up some tricks in college, cause he could take a cock like a pro and Dean would wear whatever Sam bought for him if it meant sunrise with a side of bj.

Wide hazel eyes, Sam looked up at him, pulling up a little and just flicking his tongue along the head of Dean’s cock, breathing through his nose before pulling off completely, “Take your shirt off De……” And it sounded just like all the other times Dean had heard it, ‘take your shirt off so I can sew you up’, ‘take your shirt off so I can dig this bullet out’, ‘take your shirt off you puked on yourself you stupid drunk’, but there was something else there now, something demanding. Dean leaned up to shrug out of his flannel over shirt and pull his cotton tee up, tossing them aside. Sam licked his lips and groaned, Dean catching the sight of Sam reaching between his legs and the sound of a zipper, skin on skin and shuffling around, his brother jerking himself off now while he went back to town on Dean’s cock.

Sam kept watching him then, eyes flicking up his chest, the heaving pull of his stomach as Dean tried to suck in enough air to breath when all he wanted to feel was his dick in his brother’s mouth and he had no thought to give to details like breathing or keeping his heart pumping. He could feel Sam’s throat convulsing around him, when his brother started pumping himself harder and moaning around his cock, pulling at the thong, harshly, tugging that fabric rough across his asshole while deep throating like a champ and Dean just fucking lost it, coming hot and hard down Sam’s throat, falling back on the hood of the Impala. When he managed to sit up right, peeling sticky skin off metal, Sam was licking come from his lips with brow all scrunched up in his own orgasm. Giving his brother a minute, Dean just looked down at him, “Better not get jizz on baby’s grill.”

“Dean, you’re a jerk.”

Sam pulled a bitch face, and apologetically wiped cum off the front of the car.

“Yeah whatever bitch.”

Sam was looking ruffled and pouty, still kneeling in front of him, cheek smudged dirty and hair all mussed up.

“Hey, that was great, thanks for the present Sammy.”

Dean smiled and caught his brother’s jaw in one calloused hand, tilting his face up to kiss the rest of the cum off his pink pretty lips swollen and shining with spit. Yeah okay, so maybe he was a sourpuss about the whole sharing is caring thing at first, but he could get used to his brother getting things for him, could get used to the way he was wanted, could get used to having a partner in crime in all the dirtiest ways he could think of the phrase.


End file.
